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<title>My Love As Mustards by BlueTiger788</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497684">My Love As Mustards</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTiger788/pseuds/BlueTiger788'>BlueTiger788</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shitposts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A friend made me do it, Cursed, Edit of one of my other writings, F/F, Happy, Homoerotic Mustard, Idiots in Love, Original Character(s), Probably one of the happiest things I'll ever post</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>197</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26497684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTiger788/pseuds/BlueTiger788</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I originally wrote a piece for the prompt white flowers, then one of my friends asked if I could change the flowers to mustards. So here you go. OG Piece can be seen in Daily Prompts: Fall 2020.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Shitposts [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

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<a name="section0001"><h2>My Love As Mustards</h2></a>
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    <p>American Yellow Mustard.</p><p>A fragile and beautiful specter that dances in front of my eyes with shimmering grace. She wears dresses of cotton and silk that flowed like English mustard, silky and soft as her skin. She smells of Dijon Mustard, sweet and lovely and mesmerizing. I am caught in her mustard, surrounded by her mustard, lost within her mustard. Whole Grain Mustard, she is so small in my arms yet grew on me like Spicy Mustard. Even in the winter, when all other life died and the white of snow overtook our world, she was still in full spice. My beautiful Creole Mustard, I treasure her with my whole being. And her love for me, hardy as Mustard Seed, grew and surrounded the heart of mine that I thought was long dead like German Mustard and revived it once more. She is not like Düsseldorf Mustard, no, she is a temperate soul but she loves with the passion of a mustard plant. Oh she’s beauty, she’s grace, my wonderful little Bavarian Sweet Mustard. And like the leaves of a mustard plant, I will support her as she is made into mustard and takes my breath away.</p>
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